


The Obligations of Entanglement

by cazflibs



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8117254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazflibs/pseuds/cazflibs
Summary: SPOILERS FOR SERIES XI - "SAMSARA"A hologram's got to do what a hologram's got to do.





	

  
Lister may have had a head-start, but fuelled by a ferocity that could only be borne from someone cheating him in a board game, Rimmer soon caught up with him.

"Unbe-smegging-lieveable!” he reprimanded. “How could you cheat at _Mineopoly_ just to spite me?”

The chamber door slid open for Lister happily without him even touching the keypad. “I didn't do it to spite you, Rimmer.” He paused, not able to keep the grin from conquering his face. “I did it so I could watch you grind your teeth as I played Poppadom Frisbee across the bunk room.”

The pair didn't notice as the side illumination lights began flickering into life. If they'd been paying more attention, they probably could have spared themselves from a situation that would henceforth never be spoken of again.

Lister watched out the corner of his eye as the hologram silently fumed. Smeg. He'd probably pushed things a little too far if he was this angry. Rimmer would normally be capable of firing back a flurry of personal insults in under a minute. Wordless fuming meant he was REALLY angry.

Lister rolled his eyes. “Look, I'm sorry, okay?” he soothed. “I shouldn't have stashed the cards.”

Eyes wide, Rimmer’s attention flew back to him. “Don't apologise!”

“Nah, honestly. If it makes us even, I’ll wear the smegging robe, okay?”

“No you smegging gimboid, the Karma Drive is still - !”

In that moment the lights began to flicker as the door slammed shut behind them, sealing out Cat and Kryten who were still further behind.

Rimmer’s nose wrinkled at the strange hissing sound before falling into a strange silence. “What the smeg is that?”

Dark eyes flitted around the room. “I dunno, man. Maybe it's – ” He wheezed oddly, blinking in shock. He took another experimental breath. This time it was thin and gasping.

Lister glanced up at Rimmer in panic, desperately clawing for air as each breath worsened. The hologram’s brow knotted.

“Lister?” He grasped the man’s shoulders, bracing him upright as he began to sag forward. “What's wrong?”

Lister’s breaths came short and shallow. A turmeric-stained finger jabbed wildly to the ventilation shaft.

Rimmer shrugged confused.“The air con?” he fumbled. His face fell in realisation. “The oxygen. The Oxy-Generation unit has cut out. Is that what you're saying? There's no oxygen anymore?”

Even barely able to breathe, Lister still found the energy to shoot Rimmer an exasperated look.

“Well I can't tell, can I? I don't do the whole breathing thing anymore.”

Dizzy, Lister sank to his haunches. Desperately trying to hold Rimmer’s gaze, he gestured wildly for the hologram to bring on some form of attack.

Flustered, Rimmer scrabbled for insults. “Erm – you ar- you have the personal hygiene of a diseased warthog! If your stupid hamster features aren't stuffing themselves with crap, you're busy infesting the ship with your horrendous odour – ”

The unit on the wall stammered as the fan chuffed half-heartedly before stopping once more. It wasn't enough. The pair of them spent the majority of their existence throwing insults at each other. It was the norm of their relationship.

Lister’s eyes sagged heavily, his breathing now barely a wheeze. Terrified, Rimmer fumbled for words. It was rather difficult to insult a dying man.

“You probably couldn't locate your clean sock drawer with a map and a smegging compass. You're so obscenely lazy that you’d make an ME-ridden sloth look – ” His voice suddenly cracked, “ – please, Lister. You can't do this. If you die, I die too.”

Thanks to the strange entanglement of their dual existence, Rimmer’s projection was directly tied to Lister’s lifespan. In accordance with his objective to keep Lister sane, his projection was directly aligned to the man’s needs. He would grow and age alongside him. But when Lister died, his regeneration would be rendered defunct and, without Holly to guide it, the automated system would switch him off permanently.

Entangled.

Suddenly he remembered the skeletons. The entwined mass of long-dead bodies engaged in acts a tad more indecent than Twister.

Despite the severity of the situation, Rimmer still gave a moment to roll his eyes.

“Oh for the love of – ”

Opting for the quick, mercenary, ‘rip off the band-aid’ approach, Rimmer grabbed Lister's jacket and hauled him into a kiss. A rough crush of lips in a desperate fight for life.

Lister's eyes flew open, darting about in confusion before they both pulled away to assess the effects, in more ways than one.

“Rimmer! What – the smeg - ?” he panted.

The fan on the wall buzzed into life for a few seconds, casting out a jet of recycled air before dying into an expectant silence.

The pair glanced back at each other.

Rimmer sighed. “Obviously.”

Suddenly Lister lurched forward, latching onto the hologram’s mouth like a dying man clinging to a lifeboat. Rimmer gave a startled yelp through locked lips as the momentum propelled them both backwards onto the floor.

The pair quickly becoming a writhing mass of obscene acts, the frenzied whirring of the Oxy-Generation Unit egging them on excitedly.

 

 ******

  
Ten minutes later, Kryten quickly stood as the keypad chirped back into life and the door slid open. He sighed in relief to see both men stood in the doorway.

“Oh Mr Lister, sir! Thank goodness you're safe!” he gushed.

That said, the mechanoid noticed that the pair looked slightly worse for wear. Lister's jacket was half-torn from his shoulder. Rimmer’s oddly ruffled hair looked a little less formal than usual.

The whirring of Kryten’s guilt chip was almost audible. “Mr Cat was close to death. I had to resort to some horribly violent measures.”

Sure enough, the feline was out cold on the floor. The remains of a broken chair scattered around him.

The pair stood rooted. “A chair, Rimmer,” Lister ground out, pointedly chirpy. “Kryten hit Cat with a chair.”

Kryten’s rubber features creased in confusion. "Sirs, how on earth did you manage to get the Oxy-Generation unit to restart?”

Both men stiffened visibly. And not where they had done ten minutes earlier.

“Don't want to talk about it!” The pair chanted in unison.

Kryten watched as Lister straightened his jacket, self-consciously. Rimmer patted guilty hands against his leg.

"Come on! Best get back to _Starbug_!”

“Yeah, yeah, brutal. Let's get going.”

“I mean, we can't stand around talking.”

“No, no. Talking is totally unhelpful right now.”

Kryten drummed cubed fingers against his chest-plate as the pair hurried out the door together, their words following on from one another seamlessly.

Their lives really were rather entangled. It was quite endearing, come to think of it.

 


End file.
